


Flowers on Your Hands

by GeekLibrarian



Series: Flowers [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, F/M, Swearing, beware of chickens, shouting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekLibrarian/pseuds/GeekLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After learning the truth about Castiel's obsession with his garden, and the real reason of his anger, Y/N tries to reach to him, but her actions aren't enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers on Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anhyrenkai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anhyrenkai/gifts).



“I’m giving up, Dean!” you shouted as you walked in his garage, tossing your jacket in the hanger but missing widely, letting it fall to the ground.

But you stopped dead in your track when you saw Castiel sitting in the tall stool you used to sit in, looking at you inquiringly. Dean’s face peeked from under a truck as he pushed himself out, blushing a little.

“Uhm…” he said, trying to sound casual “What are you talking about.”

“That… that freaking coffee maker.” You managed to lie, avoiding your neighbor’s look at any cost. “It’s broken _again_. I’m tossing it away.”

“No, you can’t do that!” he said, pushing himself entirely from under the vehicle “It’s a _great_ coffee maker!”

“Yeah, I know, but it won’t work with me, so… you can keep it!”

“Uhm… excuse me” Castiel’s deep voice and his well-known tone of annoyance reached you, making you go red on your ears “We were having a private conversation here.”

“Yeah, right. Well, I’m sorry to barge into your life, _as usual_.” You snapped, and turned around to leave, picking up your jacket and shaking it vigorously on the way out. “If you want that coffee maker you’ll have to come pick it up, because I’m tossing it away!” you shouted right before disappearing out of the workshop’s door.

You ran down the street until you reached the corner and then you just laid against the wall, breathing heavily. You heart was about to come out of your chest and your face was red, and the short run wasn’t the reason for it. You had almost entered that place shouting something like “Well Castiel can go fuck himself”, _almost._

You wouldn’t have mean it, of course, but the situation was escalating quickly and you were sure he wasn’t any closer to liking you than to grow wings and fly away. In fact, you were pretty damn sure he hated you now.

The whole summer had come and gone since the coffee and the talk with Dean in your kitchen, and a lot of things had happened. First of all, you had had tried to make amends with Castiel, you had gone and lowered your head, apologized and asked for forgiveness… and then you had to go and mention his wife; his response was slamming the door in your face.

And ever since then, you’d tried to get closer, thinking that someday he’d finally give in, but nothing had happened. If anything, he grew even more distant and quiet, pushing you away. And the worst part, is that the whole thing was happening because you let yourself believe something you hadn’t been willing to acknowledge in the beginning: that you had feelings for him.

It wasn’t just that you thought he was hot as hell, as you kept repeating yourself. But he was kind, and clearly a good person. You’d seen him help old ladies cross the street, helping the kids of the street to get down a ball from a tree when they stuck there. You’d seen him the weekends and on his days off helping in the local shelter. And you’d seen him re-grow his garden, take care of it. And every time a letter was misplaced in his mailbox by mistake, he would take it to you and deliver it with a slight smile. But that was all. He wouldn’t really talk to you and he rejected every single invitation to grab a coffee or watch a movie. And if there was anything that bothered him most, was you hanging with Dean and his family.

Because Dean had a family, as you’d learned in the most unusual way.

_“I might need your help this weekend” he had said radiant one afternoon._

_“What for?”_

_“I’m moving!”_

_“That’s great! Where to?”_

_“My girlfriend Lisa’s!”_

That’s how you learned he had a girlfriend, who had a son, and that he was moving in with her after a couple of years dating.

But that was all part of the problem. Castiel seemed to hate it when he saw you around them, like a very protective and obsessive friend trying to prevent his loved ones from danger.

 “Fuck!” you shouted out loud, and banged your head against the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“You keep doing that and I’ll have to carry you to the hospital with a concussion. And who’ll believe it wasn’t me the one that caused it?”

“Yeah, like anyone would ever believe you’re capable of something like that.” You said without even looking back at Dean.

“You’d be surprised.” You looked at him in awe.

“Really? People think you’re _that_ kind of guy?”

“Y/N, come on, look at me. I’m the living image of the bad guy.”

“But you’re not! You’re…”

“Just… just stop banging your head against the wall, will ya?” he interrupted with half a smile and pointing at you with his hand.

“Okay, fine. But just because I don’t want you to go to jail.”

“Thanks for that.”

You laid your head against the wall again, though softly, and eyed him.

“Where’s your dreadful friend?”

“Oh, you mean that poor example of a man that just treated you like shit?” you laughed a little, you knew he didn’t meant it, not completely “He’s on his way to work. Apparently he doesn’t like that you’re my friend.”

“What is it, huh? What is it that makes me so upsetting to him?” you didn’t need to pretend with Dean. You knew he knew how you felt about the guy without even asking.

Dean sighed and leaned against the wall next to you, looking up at the darkening sky. “I wish I knew, kiddo. I wish I knew.”

“Come on” he said finally, placing an arm around you “Lisa’s making chicken casserole tonight, and she always cooks too much.”

“She’ll end up hating me if you keep taking me unnoticed.” You said softly “Nah, I think I’m heading home, chapter thirteen won’t write itself.”

“As you wish. Just remember you’re welcome anytime.” He said patting your shoulder.

You nodded and strode off down street, as the streetlights started to turn on. Fall was beginning to show itself, and soon enough the Halloween decorations would be covering the houses and gardens. A chill breeze wrapped you up and you fastened your jacket, thinking about the box of mac and cheese waiting for you in the kitchen and the gallon of ice cream.

You stopped in your tracks and sighed, deepening your hands in your pockets you turned around.

\-------------------------

Night had already fallen when you knocked on the green door, and Ben’s big smile greeted you.

“Y/N!” he shouted happily, giving you a strong hug.

“Hey, buddy! You’re gonna knock me off my feet one of these days.”

“Come in, we were waiting for you!” he said happily running into the kitchen.

“You were, weren’t you?” you asked happily, eyeing Dean as you followed him, shooting him a fake angry look.

“Hey, I know you, you can’t say no to Lisa’s cooking. No one can!” he planted a kiss in his girlfriend’s cheek and smiled widely.

“You’re always welcome here, Y/N” Lisa greeted you with a hug and a smile. And then she turned to Ben “Now go tell the rest dinner’s almost ready.”

“The rest?” you asked, looking back at Dean, real annoyance in your face now.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a family meeting. Besides, it was time you’ve met them.” He signaled the door leading back to the dining room, inviting you.

There was a tall man there. A _really_ tall man, with shoulder-length brown hair, hazel eyes and a beautiful smile. Right next to him there was a beautiful woman, about your height and with waved blond hair.

“Y/N, this is my brother Sam and his wife Jess. Sam, Jess, this is Y/N!” Dean introduced you with a wide smile.

“Hey! It’s great to finally meet you!” Said Sam extending a hand to shake yours.

“Same here.” You said with a smile. “I’m sorry I’m not… dressed for the occasion. I didn’t really know you…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” said Jess with a grin and taking your hands as if you’ve been friends forever. “You’re gorgeous!” and she hugged you.

You just stood there in shock until Sam released you with a warm laughter and you all headed to the table. Everyone was laughing and chatting and eating, but you just felt so out of place, that at some point in the middle of the story of how they’d once build a sand castle for their mother that was too close to the sea so that when they returned with her it was a pile of melted sand, you stood up quietly and begged permission.

Lisa followed you, noticing something wrong.

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked placing a hand kindly on your shoulder. You shook your head and swallowed the tears aiming to burst at any minute.

“Not really. It’s been kind of a hard day and I was hoping for a quiet dinner with friends. Meeting new people wasn’t in my plans, and trying to stay happy for them… well, I’m finding it quite difficult.”

“I completely understand. Dean was just so excited about you meeting Sam and Jess. But don’t worry, they’re staying for a couple of days.”

“Do you mind if I just leave? Will you tell them I’m sorry?”

“I’ll make something up.” She said with a smile, and walked you to the door.

You were grabbing your jacket from the hangers when the doorbell rang and the life drained your body when you saw Castiel standing there, all cleaned up and smiling.

“Hey, Lis!” he said stepping in, but he froze as he saw you.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Cas…” Lisa warned, shooting him a deadly glare.

“No, it’s okay, Lisa.” You clenched your jaw and draw the biggest smile you could, in honor of the family eating peacefully on the other room. “Don’t worry, Mr. Novak, I was _just_ leaving.”

You finished putting on your jacket and walked by him. But as you did, he said, in a not so low voice “Good.”

And that did it. You turned around, tears finally coming out, but due to anger not sadness.

“Well _I’m so sorry_! I didn’t know you had complete custody over these people. SOMEONE SHOULD’VE TOLD ME I WASN’T ALOUD TO BEFRIEND THEM! And I am SO VERY SORRY you’re aching and all, but treating me like shit every now and then IS DEFINITELY NOT THE ANSWER!”

Silence. Your face went completely red and you heard the noise of chairs screeching against the floor and foots coming towards the front door.

Dean looked at you astonished, not a word coming out of his mouth, nor anyone else’s. _That’s it_ you thought _I’ve done it. I’ve completely ruined the only thing that was good about this place._

“Don’t worry” you said in almost a whisper looking straight at those blue eyes that were your doom “You won’t have to worry about me anymore. There’s no way I can compete with a dead woman anyway.”

And you ran off, not before noticing how Jess took both his hands to her mouth, Lisa gasped and Dean’s face transformed with rage. You didn’t stay to notice Castiel, though, that was something you didn’t want to see.

\-----------------------

The boxes weren’t enough.

You had too many books and now you were swearing under your breath as you kicked the last empty crate and looked the still full rack. You turned around to go to the kitchen, everything there was already packed, except for the damn coffee maker. You were leaving that to Dean, so he can keep it in his workshop, if he still wanted something to do with you.

You closed your eyes and your mind trailed back to the fastidious moment two nights ago. As you ran down street you had heard Dean screaming your name. The phone had rang a couple of times that same night and then it had laid dead, the only call received was the one from the moving company asking for confirmation about the date and time the truck should arrived.

That was that very night, and the day was almost over and you still hadn’t enough boxes for the books. The sun was setting and his golden light illuminated the kitchen in a special way, and the emptiness suddenly struck you. The emptiness and solitude, and the fact that you were leaving the place that had felt so right in your heart at first.

You emptied a couple of boxes filled with ornaments and tossed those away. After changing the labels you ended packing up the books and gave another deep sigh.

“Done.” You said out loud, and again the tears began to roll down your cheeks. You tried to dry them away, tired of crying, of the pain in the eyes and in the hoarse throat, but they came out nevertheless. So you sat down defeated by your own self and wept as much as your body could.

It was already dark outside when you heard the soft knock on the door. You were still lying in the floor, looking at the chandelier you had totally forgotten about, and the noise took you back to reality.

“Who is it?” you called from your spot, not wanting to move really, it was still early for it to be the moving truck. No one answered, so you shouted a little higher “WHO IS IT?”

“Uhm… Sam. Sam Winchester?” the voice reached you and you opened your eyes. You considered on standing up, but the guy had already seen the worst of you, so there wasn’t much to pretend anyway.

“IT’S OPEN!”

You heard the door opening and footsteps lingering in the threshold, like doubting.

“I’m in the library… uhm… the door to your right.” You helped him.

The front door closed and you heard his steps approaching.

“Are you trapped or something?” he asked, there was tilt of fun in his question that made you smile.

“You could say that. I’m trapped in my own stupidity for the rest of my existence. Does _that_ count?”

“Not really.” He said sitting next to you.

“I’d offer you a chair…” you said, looking around, still in the floor “but I think they’re all packed already.”

“Yeah… you did a hell of a job with that.”

“Perks of working from home. I get to use my time the way I want to.”

“Yeah.”

A silence fell after that, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. It felt like the kind of silence you have with a friend from years, it was a nice silence, a cozy silence. And it made you cry again.

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at you suddenly.

“I forgot to pack that chandelier.” You said “And I’m all out of boxes.”

“Oh” he said looking up “Well, I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but there’s a pile of stuff out there in the living room too.”

You laughed. Hard. He was a nice guy and was doing a nice thing for you. So you laughed and laughed, and he joined you, and when you were done laughing you sat up. A cloud went by your eyes but disappeared with a shake of your head, and then you looked at him.

“Why did you come, Sam?”

“Well, I was worried.”

“Like hell. You don’t even know me!” he chuckled and let his head fall a little, all his attention in a little thread coming out of his shirt’s sleeve.

“Yeah, I’ve only just met you a couple of days ago, but Dean talks about you all the time.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re his friend!” he chuckled a little and looked at you with disbelief “Dean doesn’t have many friends, it was just Cas until you came along. And he was so excited about something going on there too…”

“Yeah… so was I” your eyes strode off to the now naked window, you could see Castiel’s empty house from there, he had already left for work. “He wasn’t, though. Dean kept saying he’d bend eventually, that he’d let me in and give me a chance. But that never happened; he just treated me like trash. And it’s killing me, Sam. I need to go away now, because I know I’ve hurt him more than humanly able to forgive.”

He sighed, but nodded.

“I can’t change your mind. I just hope you keep in touch.”

“Dean must hate me now.”

“He’s a bit angry, but he doesn’t hate you. And Ben and Lisa are really worried about you too.” He stood up to leave and you followed him.

“Wait!” you said, and looked for an empty paper bag. You ran into the living room and placed your favorite ornaments in it. “Give this to Jess. Tell her I’m really sorry about that first and last meeting. Dean said she might like them.”

“He was right. I’m sure she’ll love them.”

“Oh, and… please, don’t tell anyone.”

Sam looked at you for a second, his burrow furrowed in concern, but he nodded and walked out of the door.

\-----------------------

Dean walked into his workshop next morning to find the coffee maker shining in the stool you used to sit on, and his heart sank as understanding hit him. But by the time he reached your house it was already empty, and Castiel was sitting in the balcony, a single flower playing between his fingers.

“She’s gone.” He said darkly.

Dean said nothing but sit down next to him, laying back a little and resting on his hands.

“Why do I have to ruin everything I touch, Dean?” Cas asked, holding back his anger.

His friend didn’t have a good answer to that, so they just stood in silence, looking forward as the morning went by.

\--------------------------------------

“Hello my sweet sweet darlings!” you cried as you stepped into the henhouse looking for Merlin, Gen, Morgan and Nimue. The birds looked back at you without any sign of recognition and kept eating their morning corn. “Right, ice treatment. I got it, it’s been a while. Well don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

You threw them the last of the bag and strode off back to the house.

“Honey, I love you, but…”

“I’ll look for a place to all this mom. Just until I get to sell the house. I promise, it won’t be long and I’ll build my own little shelter and you won’t have to hear or see any of me if you don’t want to.”

She looked at you with that face that said too well she was reading the lie right through you.

“Please?” you smiled and grabbed her hand “Please please please?”

“You have two weeks. After that, all this boxes go with the trash.”

“Thank you!”

Life in the farm was as slow as it had always been. The roosters’ song woke you up as soon as the sun was up and you helped with the morning chores. After a frugal brunch you’d seclude back to your room and tried to write. Though _that_ part wasn’t going too well.

As soon as you arrived, you remembered why you had left in the first place, all those years ago.

The farm was no place for writing. Too much noises on the day, too much tiredness in the nights. And also, your mother interrupting as if you were just playing around instead of working, didn’t help at all.

“Please mom!” you said one day, for the fortieth time, as she walked in to ask you, again, if you could go buy some things to town. “I’m working here. I really am. I know you don’t believe me, but I make _money_ out of this. And I won’t anymore if you don’t-let-me-work!” you emphasized every word with a wave of your hands, and she walked out feeling offended.

With a deep sigh you closed the computer and walked after her.

“Okay, what do you need.” You said darkly.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do this, mom! I’ll go shut myself up again and you’ll miss you chance.”

She handed you a little list without even looking and you walked away grabbing the keys to the truck as you left.

Those were your days. Your nights were worse.

 You were physically tired, but your mind couldn’t cope with all of it and it strode back to that house, to the flowers and Cas. When all the lights went out, you’d look out of the window and wondered how was he, if he had a good day. You wondered which shirt would he be wearing to work today, If he had seen Dean. If he had thought of you at all since you left.

And those thoughts would dance in your head for hours, consuming you and bringing you to the verge of tears until you finally fell asleep.

Two weeks after you arrived, you followed Sam’s advice and you took a picture of yourself with your chickens and sent it to Dean. “The family is united again!” you wrote on the back, and nothing else, because you didn’t feel like writing anything else.

He sent a picture of him, Lisa and Ben and wrote on the back “This side of the family is happy to hear that.”

“One day you took a picture of your mother with the most unfriendly face she could make and labeled it “Mom” and sent it.

He answered with the picture of a tummy, labeled “little baby Sam”, and you smiled.

And like that, two or three months went by. You hoped every week to receive their photo, and every week you’d find out something new that would make you smile. Like Ben receiving an award at school, or Dean finally fixing the workshop door. You’d sent pictures of the farm, the animals, your new books, your cooking achievements.

\-----------------------

Castiel sat every day at the balcony of the empty house, until a week later a real estate vendor told him he couldn’t do that anymore because the house was now for sale. He sighed and stood up, apologizing, and from that day on he sat on his own little stair, looking at the empty house.

He’d do that for a couple of minutes, at the precise time Merlin had once sung in your yard, feeling that there was something missing again in his life.

“Cas, man, you need to do something.” Said Dean walking in, stepping in old take out boxes. “Let’s not go through this again.”

“I don’t know what to do.” He said simply, lying face down on the couch and mumbling into a pillow.

“Yes you do, but you’re afraid to do it.” Dean snapped. “Come on, stand up, go get a shower. I- I’ll try and clean this up a bit.”

“Leave it.”

“Oh, no. No sir.” He said, and glanced out of the window. He froze there, looking out at the earthy view, and Castiel noticed.

“It’s dead.” He said. “She’s dead.”

“Well, that took a while.”

“Only long enough to make sure I never get a second chance.”

“Don’t talk like that, man.” He thought about it for a second and the patted his shoulder, walking out of the house. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Castiel stood up slowly and followed him.

“Where are we going, Dean? I’m not even showered yet.”

“You don’t need to.” He said “We’re going home.”

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Shouldn’t you be living?”

Castiel’s mouth fell open when Dean placed one by one all the pictures you had sent him for the past two months, and explained to him every single answer they had sent back.

“She’s happy.” He said with a sad grin, looking at your picture with Merlin.

“She looks like it.” Said Lisa “but I don’t think she is.” And placed the last picture you’ve sent them. A photo of your computer screen, and the words “Chapter Thirteen” crowning an empty page, when she turned it around the words “Still here” were written with a shaky hand.

\--------------------------

After the screen picture, there was no answer. A letter arrived for you, saying that your house had been sold finally, and though it made you happy, a little piece of your heart broke. Every chances of going back were now gone.

Another week went by and still no answer. And on the third week a picture arrived. No words on the back, just the picture of a dead garden, a garden you knew only too well. That was it. You picked you cell and looked for Castiel’s number.

It rang a couple of times before he answered.

“Hello?” he sounded so tired. And yet he managed with that single word to bring all the strength that had been missing in your body for months. “Hello?” he repeated.

“What’s the meaning of this?” you asked shaking the picture as if he could see it. No answer, just a gasp on the other side of the line. “Castiel. Why did you let your garden die? You don’t do that! You don’t let yourself down! You always keep fighting Castiel! Now go outside and fix that goddamn garden before I walk all the way down there to kick your sorry ass, because I did not leave for this! I left so you could be happy, SO BE FUCKING HAPPY!”

And you finished the call, holding back a cry. It was a good thing that in that precise moment you heard knocking on the door.

You swallowed the tears, cleaned a little and went to open, breathing deep and drawing your best smile. But it quivered, because there, in your very door, with his phone still in his hand and half a smile; there was Castiel.

“Would you help me fix it?” he said softly, handing you a bouquet as you burst into tears.


End file.
